Captive
by thevigilante15
Summary: Bruce Wayne is being held captive by familiar foe and made to pass a series of tests involving aspects of his humanity.Can Gordon figure out who the Batman is in time to save him from himself?
1. Chapter 1

Captive

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the unknown women who appear later on.

The rain was pouring down hard. Bruce didn't notice the rain nor the wind beating against his weathered body. The only significant thing he could focus on at the moment was a single drop of blood running off of his finger. Bruce had removed his glove after he had felt the bullet tear through his chest. HE wanted to feel the wound with his own human hand to register its authenticity. He was gazing down at the Kevlar meant "to stop anything except a straight shot" as Fox once told him. Too close for the bullet to veer off of its course. Everything was too close to Bruce now. He leaned his head against the now bloodstained wall and tried to breathe. Where exactly did he stand? His feeble voice tried to communicate with Alfred.

"Alfred", he whispered into his cowl. There was no response except for static. Bruce began to panic. This had to be the 7th time he tried to contact Alfred and there was no response. Did the madman who shot him during the robbery intervention get Alfred too? Most likely not, but Bruce had lost so much blood while seeking help for nearly an hour now that he didn't know what to think anymore. Maybe Rachael. … if only he could find a way to get to her….some kind of a sign…Bruce felt his mind slipping into darkness when a familiar voice called to him.

"Batman? Batman can you hear me?"

Bruce looked to his savior. It was Jim Gordon. Good old Jim. Jim would help him. Bruce still dressed as Batman but no longer comprehending his situation fully, grabbed Jim's arm roughly, afraid and panicked.

"Call my father please, sir. I need to talk to my father. He can help me." Bruce leaned his weary head back to rest.

"He always knows what to do."

Jim stared down at the face and voice protruding from the man who bred fear in everyone's heart, even Jim Gordon's, only to see a man on the brink of breaking down. Jim held onto Batman's arm tighter.

"Let me see your wound, OK?"

Bruce withdrew his arm from Gordon who kept his hand outstretched.

"It's Ok Batman. I 'm not going to hurt you. "

After a moment of hesitation, Batman allowed his arm to drop to his side giving Gordon access. Gordon realized for the first time since Batman's emergence within the past year that this was the first time he had seen the man ungloved. Jim was holding the Kevlar but staring at the bare hand of the Batman. He noticed, all the while checking out the bullet wound, that the Batman's hand was rough, but had well manicured nails? Gordon put that thought to the back burner when he suddenly became aware of another presence in the alley. The trash cans clanged slightly causing Gordon to reach for his gun unlocking the safety. Bruce saw Gordon's movement and in his delusional state reached for the gun breathing a heavy "No!" causing the gun to fire in the holster. Gordon was thrown back by the blast causing him to fall into unconsciousness.

Bruce watched his hero, the man who was about to save him for a second time, lying motionless on the ground while the rats scurried at his feet. Bruce tried to edge his way over to Gordon to make sure his friend was still alive. What had just happened? Bruce was lost in the past with alley ways and bullets when he reached for it out of instinct of self preservation not even realizing that Gordon would never hurt him. Things were becoming hazier. As Bruce finally reached Gordon he was surprised to see him moving away from his fingers, being dragged by an unseen force. Bruce stopped trying to catch his last breathes as he saw another pair of feet before his eyes. Batman looked up to see a mass of burlap laced with a smile of venom.

"Hello Batman."

Bruce began to pull away only to feel a knock to his head and blackness following.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Gordon awoke with a blinding headache. He sat up shaking his head trying to realize for a moment where he was. The alley…the stench of grime and corruption…Batman. Gordon stood up attempting to avoid the dizziness that followed. Batman was gone. A trail of blood could be seen ending abruptly. A truck or something must have taken him away. God, how am I supposed to find him now? Gordon thought, about to reach for his gun which was lying on the ground when he realized something. Gordon ripped off part of his shirt gently encasing the gun in it. This was now his only link to finding the Batman. When he had touched Gordon's gun with his bear hands, he left fingerprints. Gordon saw something else in the streetlight. He bent down to the ground and removed the bloody glove that was the Bat's. This was DNA. He would finally learn who the Batman was so he could save him and bring him home.

Bruce awoke to darkness. He found himself breathing again with some effort but not like before. The smell of blood was missing and his wound didn't ache as much. He wanted to turn and see if the bullet had been a clean shot when he realized that his body couldn't move. His arms were mounted to the wall by chains as well as his legs. Bruce pulled and twisted hoping to be released, but to no avail. The air was brisk. Bruce had been left with no shoes on so his feet felt every stone on the barren floor. His bare chest caught every draft that slept through the cracks. The only piece of clothing Bruce could feel remaining on his body was a pair of long loose fitting pants. That meant that one other important piece of clothing was also missing: the cowl. He was nearly naked and left for whomever his captor was to see. Bruce lingered for a few more moments in this reverie when a bright light suddenly revealed his place of capture. Once Bruce' eyes adjusted, he could see that the cell held few comforts of home. It had no windows and a few pairs of chains on the wall. There was a single bed in the middle of the room, headboard pushed against the wall. There was also what looked like a rusting bathroom across the way. Bruce gathered his bearings immediately trying to think of a way out. As his mind raced and his faced looked around the room, he saw two familiar eyes staring back at him. Bruce pulled on the chains in anger.

"How did they know who you were?" He whispered in desperation.

Bruce continued in anger to yank on the chains that bound him but to no avail. He grew weary after having lost so much blood the day or two days before? He had lost all concept of time.

"I brought him here for your company," a voice quipped.

"I knew that the great Bruce Wayne would need his butler here to help him with …certain things…" the voice trailed off.

Bruce turned to face Alfred who was bound on the floor, his hands and feet chained. His eyes met Bruce's as he gave a nod. Bruce was just coming to terms with the fact that his loyal friend had been kidnapped for his sake when another voice broke the silence.

"Let me go!" A young woman was pushed hard to the floor. Her long hair whipped about her face in anger.

"You pricks. I will get you for this."

Bruce saw two beautiful women scantily clothed walk away after disposing of Rachael, his beloved Rachael. No, this can't be happening. It must be some sort of effect from a toxin of some kind. He had been through this before several times over the past year. Rachael and Alfred were safe and home…

"It's not all bad, Bruce," a voice interrupted his reasoning. " I did care for you after you were shot. I mean," he paused. "What are doctors for anyway?"

Bruce closed his eyes gently as Crane's laughter filled the room with an eerie echo. God help them all.

_I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter of my new story. It will get a bit rough in some later chapters with character torture and all, but I toned it down again for the teen rating. I wanted to warn you all in advance. Please review as always. I will get back to writing It's Christmas Time , Bruce Wayne over in the Justice League cartoon section in a bit. I needed to reclaim some angst. _


	2. Chapter 2the beginning

Chapter 2-the beginning

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Inspired from Batman Begins including some quotes from the movie and also inspiration from Frank Miller's Batman: Year One.

Jim Gordon found himself, for once in a long time, at an utter loss as to what to do and whom to go to. He usually went to the Bat, but in this case, the Bat needed him. Jim ran his hands through his graying hair shaking his head. What can I do, he thought? 'Now we are two' the words stuck out in his head of his first meeting with the Batman.

Jim whispered softly to himself. "Now I am one."

As he found himself lost completely in what little evidence he had, he barely heard someone enter the room. Jim didn't realize her presence until he felt her soft hands upon his aching shoulders.

"God, Jim," Barbara said, "You are so tense."

Barbara took a quick glance over at the table where a single bloody glove and Jim's own weapon lie. Brushing a strand of her long brown hair out of her face, she bent closer to Jim's face, close enough for him to breathe in her aroma. He gently closed his eyes experience a brief feeling of passion toward his wife.

"Is this from that insane clown again?" She questioned.

Jim shook his head resting his chin in his weary hands.

"No, this one is more personal."

Jim waited for Barbara to ask if it was a colleague or a friend, but she said nothing. Jim sighed. This was not new. Barbara always leered away from the subject of work in any fashion. She said it "brought her down" and that Jim should be thinking of happier things like the next 2 year old's birthday party they would be attending this weekend.

Barbara brought Jim back to reality with a sweet kiss to his jaw line. Jim took the kiss in stride, but remained firm to his task at hand.

"Not tonight, Honey. I need to work."

Barbara stood back up straight as she slowly brushed her hand against the pale green patterned wallpaper peeling in the kitchen.

"You always have to work, Jim." With that she was gone.

Jim groaned. Whom could he go to? Maybe that new detective down at the station…what was her name? Sarah something… Jim picked up the phone and began dialing headquarters.

Bruce felt his arms growing tired from pulling on the chains that bound him. He dropped his head in defeat before facing his friends.

"How did they know?" Bruce asked Alfred.

Alfred biting his lip solemnly responded

"I believe it was Mr. Ducard that lured him to our door."

Of course, Bruce thought. Crane worked for Ducard and Ducard knew who Bruce was. Damn. Why did he have to save a man who would cause so much pain? If Bruce knew that then would he still have saved him? Bruce refused to answer that question in his own mind.

Alfred continued. "I was out near the greenhouse pruning the roses. Lovely this time of year you know…"he wandered off suddenly afraid of what he should say.

"What Alfred?" Bruce said softly his eyes fixated on Alfred. Alfred looked up at the young man whose body looked like it had been through a war zone and shook his head.

"I was cutting roses to place on your parents' grave sir when I lost consciousness. I didn't even hear him coming up behind me." He tried to smile for Bruce's sake.

"My ears aren't as good as they used to be you know, sir?"

Bruce tried to return the smile but found himself lacking. He then turned his attention to Rachel who had stubbornly tried to find something to pick the lock with on the ground, but to no avail. The floor was barren and cold leaving nothing for its welcomed guests.

"How about you, Rachael?" Bruce inquired. Rachael shrugged.

"I was working late as usual and while I was walking home I was attacked from behind." With her head slightly bent, Bruce noticed a dark bruise forming on her neck. He gestured toward the bruise with his head. Rachael nodded before he even asked.

"Yeah, that was them." She dropped her head embarrassed that she needed another to protect her. Bruce hung his head his brown hair falling over his handsome features. Once again he wasn't there to save the ones he cared about. His eyes grew hard as he pulled again on the metal chains.

"Damn you, Crane! Where are you? Are you afraid of me, coward? Is that why I am chained like an animal?"

Bruce heard Crane's voice and a dim light appeared near the right hand side of the cell. There was a window that was originally unnoticeable before. Bruce could see it but only barely from the angle he was at. Crane bent over a microphone where he stood above a plush chair and a well furnished setting.

"Are you afraid yet, Mr. Wayne?" He murmured into the microphone. His boyish looks turned to grin at Bruce causing him to only pull harder in retaliation to the comment.

"If I were you Mr. Wayne," Crane remarked, "I would be saving my strength for my first test."

Bruce eased up on the chains. Test? That was this was about? Some psycho babble?

Bruce said nothing but waited for Crane's words to follow an explanation.

"You see, Mr. Wayne," Crane finally spoke after several moments of silence, "you are a wonderful hero indeed, but what makes a hero? Is it his training?" he said gesturing to Bruce's finely tuned body. "Is it his mind?" Crane smirked. "Or is it circumstances which he endures that others can't that makes him a man among men? That, my friend, is the true test." Bruce finally met Crane's blue eyes with disgust.

"Let them go," Bruce said gesturing to Alfred and Rachael. "You only want me. You don't need them."

Crane chuckled.

"They are needed, Mr. Wayne, and are already quite involved." Crane then seemed to gesture to an unseen person hidden in the shadows.

"Let us begin."

_Hope you are all enjoying so far. Please review! It keeps the writer in me happy! Anyone know who Sarah is?_


	3. Chapter 3Test 1

Chapter 3

Chapter 3- Test 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the unnamed women.

Jim Gordon was greeted on the phone with a tired yet sweet hello.

"Sarah? Sorry to wake you. I have a situation here and I could really use your help."

Jim could hear Sarah moving around probably wondering why the Lieutenant was calling at 2 in the morning to ask for her help.

"My help? "Sarah said with a yawn. "I am honored but I just started with the force. I mean, I don't know too much…"her voice trailed off.

Jim interrupted, "You know enough. Frankly you are one of the few people on the squad that I feel I can trust. You and I both know that crime still runs rampant in the force even though you have only been here a few weeks. Trust me, it has gotten much better than it was before, but I know things are said and exchanges are still made." Jim left it at that and waited for Sarah to take the lead. Sarah wanted to know where this train of thought was going.

"What do you need, Lt?"

Gordon sighed, "I need help…" his voice grew softer, "finding the Bat." Sarah remained silent. She knew that Jim "worked" with Batman on numerous tasks but she wasn't sure if she could trust the Bat or not. She wondered why a man would dress up in a Halloween costume patrolling the city? What if he snapped one day and turned on them? Still, the thought was intriguing. Sarah paused before replying,

"When do you need me?"

Jim looked at his kitchen clock from where he sat. It was nearing 2:15 am. He smiled.

"As soon as you can get to where we are going."

Sarah asked, "Where are we going?"

Gordon replied in a serious tone. "The Narrows."

Bruce gave up the relentless task of pulling on the chains. His wrists were starting to ache from the yanking as well as from the position they had been in. He could feel his arms going numb. It seemed to be futile at this point. Bruce decided to scan the room for something, anything that could be used to pick a lock at this point. Thankfully, Alfred and Rachael's chains were long enough to allow them to walk around the room. Their chains gave them more freedom and were mainly there to prove that the threat of their captor was present even if they weren't the target. Bruce looked over them cautiously. They both seemed to be unharmed physically, but Bruce knew that the mental anguish must be taking its toll. Rachael stood up after awhile of Bruce's stares and walked over to the bed. She said down on the mattress trying to find a spot that wasn't stained and gave up. She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She pulled the single sheet over her back and tried to get warm. There was no heat in the cell and the spaces between the stones caused a nasty draft.

Bruce finally spoke. "Are you OK Rachael?"

Rachael's deep brown eyes met his. "Are you OK Bruce? Maybe this happens to you on a daily basis, but for the rest of us mere mortals, it's taking its toll."

Bruce's eyebrows rose at her statement. She was right. He was more attuned to situations like this than Alfred and Rachael were. Bruce took in a deep breath and faced Alfred, his mentor, his friend.

"How are you?"

Alfred tried to smile for his charge's sake.

"I am the same as you and Miss Dawes are, Sir. "Alfred turned his attention to the wound on Bruce's abdomen.

"I am actually a bit more concerned with that bandage you have, Master Wayne," he said gesturing toward Bruce.

Bruce gazed down at the wound which until Alfred had mentioned it had only been a dull ache.

Bruce tried to recall. "I must have been shot by one of Crane's flunkies. I am guessing that was the only way Crane knew how to get me here," Bruce gestured to the room.

Bruce's hazel eyes grew distant. "I was on patrol when I noticed the man. I started to try and stop him from attacking a woman when I felt something burning my abs. I looked down and saw blood. That's when the guy pushed me down and ran. I think I started to go into shock. I know that I was alone for quite some time. Everything else is kind of a blur except…"

Alfred offered, "Except what, Sir?"

Bruce's mouth hung open slightly as his brow furrowed. "Gordon. I remember Gordon."

Alfred's voice grew hopeful. "So someone knows we are missing?"

Bruce shook his head. "Gordon knows Batman is missing not Bruce Wayne, unless…

Alfred, I think I may have touched his gun. He has my fingerprints."

Alfred smiled. "We have someone on our side now."

Bruce closed his eyes praying silently. I hope so, he thought. For once I don't know think I can do this on my own.

---------------------------------------------------

The steel door suddenly opened creaking slightly. The once darkened window box began to flicker in light casting shadows on Crane's shoulders making him appear larger than he was. Crane's blue eyes even seemed a shade darker than usual. He reached a tentative hand to the microphone.

"Dinner is served." 2 Dishes were placed in front of Rachael and Alfred along with some bottled waters. The two women who had thrown Rachael into the cell were the waitresses. They were dressed like Dominatrix in black leather and 4 inch heels. Bruce felt his mouth salivating at the aroma of grilled chicken, rice and vegetables. Although Bruce guessed that Rachael's first instinct was to spit at the server, he could tell by hers and Alfred's intense looks hat it had been a long time since they had eaten as well. Bruce felt his own stomach rumble in response to seeing the food. The two women glanced shyly at Bruce before leaving the room. Bruce, not having received any dinner, figured that this must be Crane's first test.

"What are you going to do, Crane? Starve me to death?"

Crane's face gave a small twitch.

"If that's what you think the lesson of this test is than so be it. It is up to you to figure out the messages and of course attempt to pass them." With that, Crane left the window box in darkness and Bruce to figure out what he meant.

_Please review! I hope you all enjoy it ! I may have to change some of the ratings down the line but I will let you all know if do. Thank you for reading! What do you think the first message for the test is? Any guesses?_


	4. The Narrows

Chapter 4-The Narrows

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Jim kept his hands pushed deep into his coat pockets. It was a rather chilly night for late August, probably a record low. Jim figured that the weather definitely fit the ambience of his current situation. The Narrows were thick, for that was most likely still containing traces of Crane's toxin no doubt. Even though most of it had dispersed in the atmosphere by so called "cleaning crews" it was still somewhat toxic to be in which made Jim squirm in his eagerness to leave the area as quickly as possible. While Jim watched some stray cats fighting over the garbage, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He drew back in surprise and annoyance that he hadn't seen it coming. In the Narrows, you always had to be on alert.

To Jim's enormous relief, it was just Sarah Essen. Barely 30, she was nearly 10 years his junior. Too much experience had hardened Jim's eyes a bit. Seeing Sarah push a strain of blond hair behind her ear and the way her blue eyes sparkled make him yearn for the naive notion of good and evil to fill his soul once again. Unfortunately, Jim knew with experience also comes knowledge. With that knowledge, came memories that couldn't be erased no matter how much he wanted them to.

Sarah gave Jim a warm smile. She liked Jim right from the start. Even though she had only been with the force a few weeks, she got the sense that Jim was one of the few good ones left. He was a good man, a family man, dedicated to his wife and child, but also to a job that often summoned him out into the cold at three in the morning. How did his wife feel about that, Sarah wondered?

Jim greeted Sarah with a smile in return before getting down to business. He pulled out his flashlight and offered an extra one to Sarah.

"It was right around here that Batman was discovered, shot and lying in a pool of his own blood. " Gordon stated matter of fact while gesturing toward a blood stained wall in the alley. Sarah flashed her light in the same direction. God, she thought when she saw the blood think and dark smeared from the wall to the ground. Sarah followed the trail as Jim continued to give her some background on the event.

Sarah nodded when Jim was done.

"You're right. The blood trail ends abruptly almost as if the body ended up being dragged along here," Sarah pointed "and ended up in a truck or vehicle around here." Her finger touched the ground gently. Jim nodded his head. Sarah bit her lower lip lost in thought.

"If only we had some kind of evidence….witnesses, fingerprints, anything, maybe it would help us." Sarah noticed at this statement Jim cleared his throat nervously. She looked up with an exasperated stare.

"What aren't you telling me, Gordon?" Gordon tried his best charming smile.

"I do ….have…fingerprints…" he said spreading out the words evenly. Sarah stood up groaning.

"Where? You know I do have a background in lab work. I could help with this." Her words came upon deaf ears.

"What," she said with a hand on her hip, "You don't trust me?"

Jim shook his head, "Of course, I wouldn't have asked you here if I didn't. Fingerprints won't help us if we don't even have a clue as to where to look first and for whom…" Jim paused, "We have it for later. Later, OK?"

Sarah didn't even get to answer when a rustling sound came from one of the houses. Jim nodded to Sarah as the two unlocked the safety on their guns. Slowly drawing their weapons they made their way around the ruins of the shambled house and to the front door. Jim gestured and on the count of three burst into the room. The sound startled a few rats which had run by their feet. Sarah let out a tiny yelp in surprise and covered her face with her sweater sleeve. Jim followed suit immediately noticing the stench that engulfed the room. It was the stench of decay, the stench of death.

Jim and Sarah kept their weapons raised when they heard something fall behind the crumbling sofa in the back of the room. The two officers edged closer and peered over the sofa half expecting to see another stray animal, but instead found a small, pale boy with his arm held protectively over his head. Gordon and Sarah immediately lowered their weapons and placed them in their holsters. Gordon went over to the boy. He was crying hard and murmuring something. Gordon leaned in closer to calm him down when he caught a bit of what the boy was saying.

"Please don't hurt me! Please don't hurt him!"

The boy's wording from "me" to him" lead Gordon to believe the child had seen something, something possibly related to Batman's disappearance.

Gordon inched closer attempting to pull the boy's arm down to see his face.

"Hey, fella, it's OK. We aren't going to hurt you." Gordon's words silenced the boy who decided to peek at his visitors. When Jim saw his face, a feeling of recognition flooded him. Wasn't this the boy he saw with Rachael Dawes that fateful night in the Narrows with Crane? The boy, who was no older than 10, stared hard at Jim with an untrusting look.

"Do you work for him?"

Gordon didn't' know who "he" was but decided to guess.

"Scarecrow? Did he scare you like this?"

The boy nodded furiously. His breathing was shallow and he looked as though he hadn't eaten in days.

Gordon glanced back at Sarah who was trying her best not to be sick from the stench of decay within the room. Gordon was beginning to be overwhelmed as well. He tried to keep his focus on the boy and noticed that the odor was near him. A disturbing thought crossed Gordon's mind.

"Son, where are your parents?"

The boy swallowed hard. "My dad, I don't know, but my mom, she's here." He smiled. "She would never leave me."

Gordon feared the worst and glanced down at the boy's hands to see they had another's in their grasp. Gordon's eyes followed the hand to a sheet masked in shadows. With one swift motion, Gordon removed the torn and tattered fabric only to see what must have been the boy's mother or what was left of her. My God, Jim thought. This boy has been living with a corpse for God knows how long. Anything not to be alone…Jim thought.

Gordon placed a gentle arm around the boy.

"It will be OK." He said to the boy and to himself as well. "What's your name, sport?"

The boy's blue eyes stared back with a tentative look.

"Richard Grayson, sir."

Gordon nodded attempting to smile.

"Richard. That is a great name. When was the last time you've eaten, Richard?"

Richard interrupted, "Call me Dick. I don't know…" his voice trailed off. "I keep asking my mom for food, but she doesn't answer me."

Gordon was beginning to wonder if the boy was in shock or seriously delusional from exposure to the toxin.

"Why don't you come with me and my partner, Sarah here?" Sarah waved to Dick.

"We can get you some food." Gordon offered.

Dick scrunched up his nose. "Not just vegetables right? I mean, I really like French fires."

Gordon grinned. "French Fries are wonderful. We can get you that."

Dick seemed concerned. "What about my mom?"

Gordon looked at the corpse. "We will get some for her too, OK?"

In a more serious tone, Gordon continued. "Dick when you said don't hurt him, whom did you mean?"

Dick shrugged. "You know…him…I saw him…."

Dick tried to continue to talk but he suddenly found it quite hard to breather. His eyes began to roll in his head as he began to pass out. Gordon caught the boy before his head hit the floor. Sarah stood behind Jim. "Is he OK?"

Gordon shook his head. "I don't know. He faced Sarah.

"Call 911 and tell them to hurry."

Sarah whipped out her cell phone and began to dial. While Sarah was making the call, the boy regained consciousness for a moment and handed something to Gordon that was held tightly in the hand that wasn't clutched to his mother's.

"I saw him before you know," Dick said.

He handed Gordon some kind of technical gadget. Dick pressed it into Gordon's hand.

"Take it, "he said, "Look for him through the walls."

Gordon, although baffled by this statement, also began to see clearer than before. He looked to Sarah.

"Hey, Sarah, "She glanced down at Gordon kneeling with the boy in his arms. "I think we may have found our witness."

_Hope you all like it so far. I promise we will get back to Bruce in the next chapter. I needed to see what Gordon was up to you know. I mean he is sort of our hero too right? I also have (as many of you) that the little boy in the movie is Richard Grayson, I mean why else have him keep showing up? Anyway, please review. I love them!_


	5. The Answer

Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I won nothing except the guards. Those evil men!

Bruce began to find his body longing for the taste of something, anything at this point. It had been nearly two days since he had eaten or had anything to quench his thirst. His arms were numb from the shackles that he endured. Bruce felt as though his body was becoming a transparent essence losing itself in the world of Crane. Bruce didn't see the point in trying to starve him to death. That would be too simple for Crane. Bruce might have been able to think better if he had something to eat. There in lay the contradiction. Where did one cycle end and another begin?

Bruce was distracted by a whispering Alfred. He turned his head to face his old friend. Bruce could tell that this was taking its toll on the older man. Even though Alfred and Rachael were given three square meals a day and a bed to sleep on, Alfred would never be able to rest until he knew Bruce was safe. Bruce deep in his heart appreciated the gesture, but knew that for them to survive, Alfred would need to preoccupy himself with his own needs and not Bruce's. That was asking a lot for a man who dedicated his every breath to Bruce, but it was the only way.

Bruce reflected on the past few days as he struggled to hear Alfred's comforting words in the present.

"Master Wayne, how are you today, sir?" Bruce wanted to answer him but seemed to find that he had no words. Maybe perhaps the words were there, but lost in a parched throat. All Bruce could see were the faded memories from the other day. He was allowed three times a day to use the facilities and make sure his body wouldn't completely fail him. It seemed pointless to Bruce since he wasn't able to eat or drink anything, but was thankful at the same time to stretch his muscles. In one trip, Bruce had tried to steal a sip of water from the rusty sink in the bathroom. The guards noticed and made Bruce aware that they did. Bruce was left, broken and bloody; to crawl back to his chains and roughly assisted back into his place like a rabid animal. Once the two men had left their post, Alfred raced over to Bruce to check on his wounds. Alfred pushed Master Bruce's fallen strains of hair out of his eyes to make sure Bruce realized that he wasn't alone. Alfred began to prepare to clean away the blood all the while speaking to Bruce in a matter of fact tone.

"Master Wayne, can you hear me? I am going to take care of this nasty cut OK sir?" Alfred proceeded to wipe the blood using a piece of his own torn butler's once pristine white shirt. Blood soaked up the shirt where the knife wound one of the guards had used had punctured the recently healing gun wound from a few days ago. Alfred knew that he needed antiseptics, but doubted that Bruce had any stashed away in the loose fitting pants he was wearing. Bruce gasped but never gave Crane the pleasure of crying out. With his head bent, he looked half dead to Alfred. Alfred proceeded to take the shirt and wipe the blood away from Bruce's mouth when Bruce felt something more than blood. Water…Alfred had gotten water on the shirt and was giving it to him. Bruce logically knew and did his best to be discreet but he felt as if his mouth could barely survive without it. Once a few drops reached into his slightly opened lips, a shock so powerful shot through Bruce and threw Alfred back against the wall. Rachael had been watching the whole event in horror. She immediately grabbed Alfred as the older man's head nearly hit the wall.

"Any other tricks, Mr. Pennyworth?"

It was Crane.

"I see everything, Mr. Pennyworth. There is nothing that you can or cannot do that I don't see. If I see you trying to interrupt the experiment again, you will face the consequences of your actions as will those you are trying to protect. Do I make myself clear?"

Alfred tried his best to nod but could feel next to nothing except Rachael's arms holding him in a sitting position. Alfred looked back to his young charge. Bruce's breathing was growing heavier as if each one was his last. Within a few moments Bruce opened his eyes and turned to meet the steady gaze of his loyal friend. Bruce gave Alfred the tiniest nod which meant the world to Alfred. He returned the gesture. Alfred knew that Bruce would fight. He would fight even if he meant he would die fighting.

Crane's attentions immediately turned to Bruce.

"Mr. Wayne, Mr. Wayne, why would you think you could get away with something like that? I am omnipotent in this version of hell. I am the demon you need to purge."

Bruce heaved each breath and felt a tightening in his chest. He didn't know if he would be able to make it one more day like this. He could feel his body failing him. Bruce damned his own humanity.

Crane's face softened its harsh edges just a bit.

"I don't want it to end like this. There is so much more to this journey. Perhaps I will engage you with the question. Answer it and maybe we can come to an agreement. Crane smirked.

Bruce's attempt to raise his head to face his opponent failed.

"Mr. Wayne, why am I doing this test? What is the message I am trying to convey to you? I would quite often put my …patients under various forms of tests like this. Sad to say, many didn't….pass. I am hoping you will surpass their flaws."

Bruce said nothing. His family kept their gaze steady, waiting for what hoped to be an end to this torturous event. Bruce's mind raced with whatever little thinking power he had left as he reviewed the last two days' events. The test…the true test….

Bruce struggled with a furrowed brow and closed eyes to release the words forming. "Patience… you are teaching patience…."

Crane smiled coyly. "Close, Bruce…but what can patience breed in a person who needs for everything to be done for them?"

Bruce looked to Alfred and Rachael safe in their chains with full bellies that he could only long for, perhaps receive a bone thrown his way.

"Patience, he rasped, "breeds dependency."

With those words uttered, the chains released Bruce who fell solidly to the floor. Both Rachael and Alfred raced to this side. Alfred, while holding the head of his charge on his lap watched Rachael hold the water bottle. Before pouring it into his mouth she looked to Crane fearing repercussions for her actions. Crane nodded. Rachael poured the water slowly into Bruce's dry and cracked lips. Too much was coming out too quickly. Bruce tried to down it all, but found him chocking in response.

"Thank you," he barely whispered.

Crane nodded with a chuckle. "Good job, Mr. Wayne. We might be able to make a great detective out of you yet." He clapped summoning two men to bring Bruce food.

"Remember, Mr. Wayne. A true hero realizes that he can never work alone but rather work together with others to better humanity. "

Crane's window went dark as Bruce lost consciousness.

_I hope you all liked this chapter. I felt I struggled a bit but at least I hope everyone who is reading has a better understanding as to where the tests may lead. I forgot to add as well that the rumor circulated for the sequel movie **The Dark Knight **is that Bruce will hopefully be given more detective skills than in the first movie. That was in part an inspiration to reflect upon that a bit in this story. Just a a note to add. The tests only get worse from here on out. Next chapter: Jim and Dick. Can Dick Grayson help find the Batman? Will Jim ever figure out Batman is Bruce Wayne? Stay tuned… _


	6. Can't Save Them All

Chapter 6-Can't save them all

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Batman Begins inspired scenes in this story.

Jim Gordon sat with his hands folded and elbows on his knees in the chair next to Dick Grayson's hospital bed. He had been there for 7 hours straight leaving only to use the facilities and call his wife. The little boy's face didn't look quite as pale as it did when Jim first saw him.

Jim watched the boy's small chest heave up and down in a rhythmic motion. Jim remembered another young boy long ago who needed him as well. God, he had nightmares about Bruce Wayne months after he had been on the scene of that brutal murder. To see your parents killed in front of you, Jim thought, must be one of the most horrible events to bear witness to. Jim remembered how the boy looked. His eyes were so lost. Jim often stopped by months later and even on the one year anniversary of Bruce's parents' death to see how the boy had been doing. Bruce would never say much. He would politely nod his head and thank the officer for stopping by. Jim recalled getting an urgent feeling from Alfred that he wanted Jim to stay and say something, anything to the child that would help him get past this, but at that point, Bruce would often walk away to his room and lock his door. Alfred would kindly walk Gordon to the front door. Jim would sigh.

"I don't know how you do it, Alfred. I know you and how hard you try, but…." Jim interrupted himself. "Have you ever thought about having Bruce see a therapist?"

"Yes, indeed, sir, "Alfred said. "We've been to several in fact. Master Bruce refuses to speak and often does…unusual things which to distract from the conversation."

Jim tilted his head to the side, "What kinds of distractions?"

Alfred clasped his hands behind his back.

"Well, there was the time when Master Bruce was sitting in front of the doctor stabbing his pen into the desk, carving it, like a pumpkin. Needless to say," Alfred added with a chuckle, "We never saw that doctor again. Master Bruce continued to act out this way whenever the subject of his parents' murder was approached."

Jim shook his head, eyebrows raised. "Well, I am certainly glad he has you, Alfred."

Alfred tried his best to accept the compliment.

"I am trying my best, sir, but sometimes," his voice softened, "I think it is a lost cause."

Jim placed his hand on Alfred's shoulder.

"It is never a lost cause, Alfred."

Jim returned his gaze to the boy who lay in front of him now. Jim in his truly idealistic years thought that with enough love and guidance that anyone could be saved. Gordon thought about how Bruce Wayne acted now, always in some sort of scandal and such. Jim resolved to himself even though he knew Alfred did his best. Bruce was different from the little boy he once knew.

Jim heard soft footsteps coming from behind him. He turned to see his beautiful wife, Barbara. He flashed her a smile and she tried to return the effort.

"Thanks for the call, Jim. I haven't seen you in nearly 24 hours. I was beginning to worry."

The sarcasm seeped through her voice like honey. Jim quelled his feelings.

"Sorry, dear. Things just got out of hand here."

Barbra asked, "Who is involved in this case that you are so obsessed about."

Jim replied knowing what her reaction would be. "It's the Batman. We are trying to find the Batman."

Barbara stepped back. "We? Who's we?"

"Sarah and I are working together."

Barbara nodded, "Sarah, the new girl…" Barbara wanted to say something else but failed to do so.

"Do you have any leads?"

Jim gestured toward Dick.

"You're looking at him. Although he was a bit out of it when we found him, he is the closest thing to an eye witness that we have." Jim neglected to tell Barbara about the fingerprints and DNA.

"So, is this Batman is more important than your family? Why else would you storm off at two in the morning and not call me until almost 8 a.m. a day later?"

Jim pushed his arms up and down.

"Take it easy, Barbara! Don't wake the boy."

Barbara looked at the sleeping child and knew who Jim had been remembering.

"You can't save them all, Jim. Your family needs you at home."

Gordon replied. "Batman saved Gotham. The least I can do is save him."

Barbara gave an exhausted sigh as she walked away from her husband. She paused touching the doorway frame and without looking back replied, "He may have saved Gotham, but can the Batman save us?"

After he knew his wife was safely out of the room, Jim's gaze returned firmly on the boy in front of him.

"To be honest, Barbara, "Jim whispered, "I don't know."

_I hope you all liked this so far. Please review. I thank you to all of my faithful reviewers. I rally enjoying getting them. Trivia question: Who know what actor/actress used to do distracting l things during their interviews (at least according to what I had read somewhere)? It was my inspiration for Bruce carving scene. Any guesses? Thanks!_

_Next chapter: Bruce's second test…..will be torture! (literally) _


	7. Sacrifice

Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the henchmen.

Bruce's weakened body had been through hell. For nearly three days, he had been unable to stand without the support of cast iron chains. His stomach ached for food and his mouth longed for water. Day after day, Bruce had been left to watch Alfred and Rachael indulge in the basic human necessities while he was left to his own survival.

The cell seemed to have grown two feet smaller in Bruce's eyes. Everywhere he looked, all he could see and think of was food and water. When the ordeal had ended, it took another 24 hours of intravenous feedings and another day or so of barbaric use of his hands to eat whatever was placed in front of him. Bruce coveted every morsel of food inched his way. Bruce kept shifty eyes on his friends as they watched him in earnest. Since it had been a total of three days after his survival of Crane's first test, Bruce was recovering nicely and was allowed to use the facilities including showering. Although his new shackles, much like Alfred's and Rachael's, were heavy on his limbs, Bruce was grateful for the feel and smell of the brown colored water dripping slowly over his body. He never realized how much he appreciated the simple things he took for granted. When his time for cleansing was up, Bruce was pushed roughly out of the shower, naked and vulnerable, where he landed against the wall of the cell. His pants were thrown at him as Crane's guard snickered.

"Here is the mighty Batman, ladies and gentlemen."

The man leaned in close enough for Bruce to smell his rotting breath.

"Not so mighty now are you?"

Bruce turned his face away from the stench ignoring the comment as he slid on his pants. A chill caught in his spine. His hair was wet and hanging in his eyes. Bruce stared off at nothing in particular and shuddered for a moment until he felt something warm on his shoulders. He looked up into the kindly face of Alfred.

"Here you go, sir. Just a little something to keep you warm." Bruce wanted to grin, but found himself lacking. Alfred sat down next to Bruce careful to lean his aging back gently against the drafty wall. He placed one leg straight and the other bent in order to rest his elbow on. He whispered to Bruce.

"How are you holding up, Sir? I mean I can't imagine the ordeal you just went through."

Bruce turned to face his friend and looked in Rachael's direction as well.

"We are all going through it Alfred."

After the words were barely spoken, the steel door could be heard creaking. Bruce felt the muscles in his body tense at the mere thought of what may come in store for him next. The walls seemed to shake a bit making its presence known. Bruce stared straight ahead as two men entered the room. These were new and different ones than Bruce recalled seeing, but then again, his mind had been significantly altered from lack of food so maybe they just seemed different to him.

One of the men was burly with scars covering what little of his body could be seen. The other man had a lighter built. Both wore masks disguising their features and carried long whips. The two men went over to Bruce and pulled him to his feet. The sheet Bruce had been wearing slipped off of him and fell to the ground into a puddle of water that had made its dwelling there.

"Lost your cape, Batman? I'm sure we can find a replacement fixture for your back." Bruce remained stoic to the comments as he waited for the true essence of the second test. A light flickered in the window, but this time Bruce refused to face his torturer.

"Are you angry at me, Mr. Wayne?" The calm voice declared with honesty.

No answer followed. Crane continued, "I will make it easier for you to answer me. You," Cane said pointing to the burly man, "start with her."

Bruce's eyes watched in horror as the burly man went over to Rachael's lithe being and began to tear her shirt off and place her chest directly to the wall leaving her back exposed.

"Wait!" Bruce cried. "What are you doing?"

Crane mused lost in his own ramblings.

"Isn't it obvious? I have decided that it was her turn to be tortured. I mean, women want equality, do they not, Mr. Wayne?"

Bruce watched at the whip aimed, ready to strike her.

"Stop! Take me instead."

Crane gestured for the henchmen to stop and mulled over the possibility of Bruce's torment instead.

"Perhaps this will be for the best, "Crane smiled deviantly.

He eyed the two men.

"You heard him."

The larger of the two men seemed to be taking immense pleasure in what he was about to do to Bruce. He took Bruce's wrists and unlocked them carefully, keeping a watchful eye on Wayne. Bruce's arms were then stretched out further than he thought possible and then chained to two different shackles hidden up above within the ceiling. Bruce continued to breathe, but felt the strain to his already weakened muscles. Once he was secure, his legs were placed in another pair of chains that were bolted to the floor.

The men waited for their signal.

"Keep your eyes on the prize, Mr. Wayne." Crane said referring to Rachael.

Bruce stared directly at her watching those beautiful brown eyes grow moist with tears for what was about to come.

The first hit stung. Bruce flinched, but not from the pain, but rather from the anticipation. He kept his eyes on Rachael as he was told, but he tried to keep his mind relaxed so that the pain wouldn't be so intense. Bruce did his best, but by the twentieth blow, his head could barely stay up and blood was running down his back in thick lines. Bruce kept his eyes shut as the chains freed him from above. He had fallen to his knees, but with one swift push, he found his back hitting the solid stone. A muffled groan escaped his lips in agony. Bead of sweat trickled down his handsome features as his breathing quickened. Crane watched his experiment in earnest as the two onlookers appeared ready to bolt to Bruce as soon as the word was given.

"You may go to him."

Once the OK was made, Alfred ran by his charges side. Rachael hesitated for a moment trying desperately to keep on the last remains of clothing she had left on her body.

"Give them some antiseptics, gentlemen and give her a shirt." Crane said pointing to Rachael. "No one wants to see that."

Rachael's wounded eyes glanced at Crane's remark but she remained silent turning her attention to Bruce. He had done this for her. How could she ever face him again, she wondered?

Alfred gently turned Bruce over to his side. The markings were deeply etched and would most likely scar. Alfred sighed. He picked up the antiseptic and the clean cloth and began to dab it onto the wounds. Alfred could feel Bruce's muscles tense up under his gentle touch and he tried to soothe them.

"I am trying my best, Sir."

Bruce nodded. "I know, Alfred, "he whispered.

"I know."

It took nearly two hours to properly clean and bandage the nearly forty whip marks aimed twenty times form two men. Bruce was helped against his wishes to the bed to lie down. Rachael sat down next to him and took his hand. Bruce started to pull away.

"Please, Bruce, don't. I don't know how I can ever thank you enough…" Bruce refused to meet her eyes.

"Thank you."

Bruce remained unresponsive. He had no right to feel angry. He had chosen to have this done to himself.

"Rachael."

Rachael turned her head.

"I would do it again."

Rachael replied with a lopsided grin, "I know."

With the words said, Bruce fell into a deep sleep.

Within a few hours, Bruce had opened his eyes to same the same two men grabbing Alfred and turning him to face the wall.

"Leave him alone." Bruce rasped.

One man nudged the other.

"Hey look, Sleeping Beauty's awake. We could play the same game as yesterday."

Bruce was willing to do anything to save Alfred that kind of pain, but didn't know how much more he could take of a beating like that.

"I will do anything," Bruce resigned.

The men enjoyed hearing that and each took turns locking his ankles and wrists once again.

"For God's sake, Master Wayne, let them take me."

Bruce ignored Alfred's begging.

"This time, we'll go easy on you and whip you from the front."

Bruce glanced down at his well toned chest. The bullet wound was still healing. Before he had time to register what was about to happen, he heard Rachael shriek and Alfred whisper, "My God."

The first blow hit his bullet wound directly. For the first time through these tests, Bruce cried out in pain. Damn Crane. Blow after blow came his way. Alfred had tears streaming down his cheeks. Not only was Bruce doing this for him, but as opposed to the last time, he could clearly see the whip make contact with the skin over and over again.

By the time they were done, Bruce's chest was no longer visible beyond the deep red welts and flowing blood. His eyes looked at his new markings and wondered if his body would ever be the same again. He was dropped like before only to have his head hit the bedpost. He reached over for the cloth and bandages when Alfred tried to help him. Bruce pulled away refusing to meet Alfred's eyes. Alfred gazed downward. He understood Bruce's need for space. Rachael looked questioningly at Alfred. They both were beginning to realize that the torture sessions were doing more than physical damage: they were destroying Bruce's relationships with them as well.

Bruce didn't say a word to his family this time before closing crashing onto the bed. When he awoke the following day, once again the two men dragged him out of bed not even bothering to ask him for his sacrifice, but rather expecting it. They chained him all the while Bruce was protesting. His pleas were ignored as Alfred watched in disgust and Rachael in shock as they left Bruce to offer up his body again. This time, Bruce's eyes stared squarely on his two friends with rage behind them.

Alfred shook his head with his mouth slightly agape not knowing what to do at this point. Rachael sat on the floor crying. Bruce felt his fists forming in his shackles. Bruce was beginning to feel that they were ignoring his sacrifices and taking them for granted. The whip was raised again but after a few strokes Alfred stood up and cried, "Enough."

Crane raised one eyebrow at his request before smirking and letting Bruce fall into his mentor's arms.

Alfred had placed Bruce onto the bed and watched the henchmen leave the scene of their brutal crime. Rachael sat on the other side and held Bruce's hand. Although, Bruce knew their gestures were well intended, he loathed the touch of their hands at that moment.

Alfred gently dabbed Bruce's back once again attempting to close old wounds. Bruce was freezing and held the sheet over his bare chest to try and protect it from the draft.

"You do know what Dr. Crane is attempting to do?"

Bruce didn't' answer.

"He wants you to keep sacrificing for us. It's part of the test."

Bruce looked up into Alfred's eyes carefully rolling over.

"No, Alfred. It's not just about sacrificing. Crane wants me to hate you. He wants me, knowing that I will do anything for you both to keep taking these beatings without getting anything in return for it. If nothing is ever returned to one who sacrifices then he begins to hate until …you are a poison in my veins." Bruce quoted Ducard.

"I don't want that."

Alfred had no words of comfort only honesty.

"I'm afraid, Sir, that the seeds have already been planted."

Bruce rolled back onto his side, inching ever so slightly from Alfred.

"I know," he said to himself.

_Whew! That was hard on the hands. For those of you liking a longer chapter, here it is. Please review! I love to hear your thoughts. Next chapter….Dick wakes up and Gordon starts to piece things together…somewhat. _


	8. answers

Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own Batman.

Jim Gordon moved ever so slightly when he saw the boy's eyes open. He didn't want to frighten the boy more than he already was. Little Dick's blue eyes opened wide.

"Where am I?" He whispered. It was evident that the boy's throat was horse.

Jim inched up carefully grabbing hold of his tiny hand and offering him a glass of water.

"You're safe in Gotham City Hospital. How are you feeling?"

Dick put the glass down and rubbed his tired eyes.

"O.K. I guess."

His eyes scanned the room frightfully.

Gordon smiled at the boy recalling another boy he once smiled at long ago.

"It's O.K." Gordon's voice trailed off.

"Do you remembering seeing anything unusual before we found you?"

Dick looked immediately into Gordon's eyes.

"Yeah, I saw", he looked around before cupping his hand to his mouth and whispering, "Scarecrow."

Gordon leaned in.

"Scarecrow? What was he doing?"

Dick's gentle eyes began to grow moist with tears.

"I'm afraid if I tell you, he'll find me and…"

Jim tried to comfort the little boy.

"It's O.K., son. No one is going to hurt you." Dick met Jim's eyes.

"I promise."

Dick took a deep breath. "I saw Scarecrow and Batman. Scarecrow shot Batman." Dick started crying again.

"Batman wasn't moving. Scarecrow kept dragging him down the street to a truck..."

Jim kindly interrupted. "A truck? What kind of truck?"

Dick scrunched his features in concentration. "I think it was the kind that collects the garbage? It smelled really bad."

Jim thought using a garbage truck would bean odd thing to use, but then again this was Scarecrow we were talking about. Unless, the boy meant a sanitation truck that was used to clean up toxic wastes that had flooded into the narrows. There were several that had been used recently too try and clean up the mess the Scarecrow left behind. Maybe it was a clue….perhaps Batman was being held near a sewage station? The question was which one? Jim looked back to Dick who was staring intently on him.

"What's going to happen to me?" He asked softly.

Jim's eyes softened at the statement. He knew exactly what would happen to the boy. He would stay in the hospital for a few days, be sent to social services and probably get lost in a system that could care less about him.

"You'll be fine," he told Dick with a smile as he stood up to leave.

"I promise."

Sorry so short. I am sorry for not having updated in awhile. I have been working on three different stories right now. If you all get a chance check the other two out. One is in the Justice League cartoon section and the other is a House MD fanfic. Thanks! Hope everyone liked this chapter!


	9. Broken

Captive-chapter 9

Disclaimer: Graphic instances! Do not read if upset by implied rape or abuse. Warning!!! I do not own Batman but I wish I did.

Bruce raised a sleepy head barely aware of the sounds around him. Rustling…something, else? He could hardly comprehend what was to come.

As quickly as he had fallen asleep, he was pulled, strung up and chained once again. While the wounds from the beatings had very little time to heal, but in Crane's eyes it must have been long enough. Bruce tried to keep his breathing even when his heart pounded dreading whatever was about to come. The same two burly men who had beaten him before were not present. In their place were the two dominatrix women, their eyes shadows filled with pain and lust maddening to say the least. Alfred had stirred when he realized his charge had been taken out of the bed where they all fought for warmth.

"Master Wayne?"

Bruce refused to answer, fear enticing him to remain silent as in the darkness he felt another type of pain reach his veins. His hazel eyes widened as he realized the women had distracted him enough to inject him with something. God only knows what, he thought. He couldn't see anything. He could only feel…their hands, their tongues over his body. Feel their soft caresses and hear their whispers…"we'll see you soon."

Bruce's eyes remained open anticipating what that meant.

It seemed like hours had gone by which in the true concept of time was probably true. Bruce was still wondering what he was injected with. It had been nearly two hours since his injection. Considering he wasn't dead, it wasn't lethal was it? He sighed. Something out of the ordinary was happening to say the least. Bruce shifted uncomfortably but not from the chains. Alfred looked over noticing the rather frustrated expression on his friend's face. It wasn't exactly pain…as it was annoyance.

"Master Wayne?"

Bruce's breathing was becoming quickened. Sweat was dripping from his eyes.

The injection did something. Bruce felt a sharp tightening in his pants. Testosterone maybe? Something…something to make him what….he shut his eyes trying to block it out. You can do this Bruce. You went for years without sex. Celibacy… concentrate…

"Nothing Alfred."

Rachael had stirred rousing from her sleep. Bruce's heightened senses took note of her movement as well as the rise and fall of each breath. Her hair fell slightly over her breasts. Bruce felt his body tense. _What the hell did they do to me?_

His thoughts were interrupted, thankfully by the door's familiar creaking. Only one guest returned although it seemed to be not by choice. The fair skinned woman seemed familiar to Bruce in his haze. Her dominatrix costumed was stripped clean off her body. Her limbs were bruised and strapped to a wooden table being pushed by one of Bruce's earlier attackers. The glint in the man's eyes both amused and repulsed Bruce. The man kept a steady eye on Bruce as his finger ran over the woman's breasts and neither region with pleasure. Bruce knew he should feel anger but arousal? _No…._

He diverted his hazel eyes to the floor.

"What the hell is this Crane? I know you're there, watching."

Crane's chuckle could be heard over the speaker.

"You do seem to know my transgressions. I dare so, will we see yours?"

Bruce felt the sweat sting his eyes as he blinked it away.

"I see you admit nothing. Well, no matter. We will know the truth in a few hours. Let's see…" momentary rustling "you were injected about 2 hours ago…so that leaves about two hours and you will be dead. That is unless you give in to temptation."

Bruce's fevered features glared at the darkened window.

"You have been injected with a concoction of testosterone and hormones that would drive normal men insane within three hours. Since you are not normal Mr. Wayne I give you the limit of four. If you don't find pleasure a release from your sexual tension, you will be dead from the lack of blood to the brain." As an after thought, "Oh and by the way. Pleasuring yourself doesn't count although I do start to wonder if that is all you know how to do. Being Batman takes up so much of your time."

Bruce's eyes squeezed shut from the ridiculous notion Crane had in his head.

"You want to embarrass me?"

Crane shaking head could be nearly heard.

"Mr. Wayne, I wouldn't resort to something so juvenile. Think deeper". He chuckled at his following words. "Think harder."

A pause, "If you pleasure the young woman before you" she winced at his terminology, "then I win. If not then you win."

Silence. Bruce shot a look to Alfred whose face remained stoic. Rachael was awake and listened to the entire conversation. Bruce dropped his eyes and hid his shame in the cobblestone floor. What was he suppose to do? Fuck the woman tied up? Never…. Never….

. The young woman squirmed and moaned slightly in her state fearful for her life. Bruce's eyes met hers. Fearful…vulnerable….

The darkness was interrupted by the crackling sound of an old movie reel and a blinding light. Bruce's attention was drawn from the woman to the movie playing before him. The images began to play with limited sound. Bruce saw the images flitting before his eyes taking in each breath with delight and horror. Pornographic Images of women and men in various instances flickered in Bruce's eyes. Violence, pleasure, and finally pure pain echoed in the cries on the screen. Bruce's breathing became shallow and labored as his glances stole looks at his captive sweetheart. Nearly three hours now, the feeling of interest was becoming one of pain.

He twisted in the chains. _A way out, there had to be a way out._

"Release me, you bastard. I'm not going to give in."

Crane's shadow box lit up.

"You would rather die than break your moral code one time? Interesting…"

Bruce found himself slipping.

"Undo the chains. I've won."

Crane laughed. "You've won nothing. Now be a good boy and watch your movie."

Bruce shrunk slightly from the lit screen's glow.

"No." A shook of electricity coursed through his body in response.

"Oooh, did I forget to tell you that if you don't follow the rules you will be electrocuted?

Bruce felt the panic set in.

"Let me go. I'll prove it to you. I won't do anything."

"Hmm.. I don't know. Rachael, what do you think about that?"

At the sound of her name, Bruce turned to look at her. God she was beautiful. He wanted her. God, he wanted her. _One touch_…

Beautiful brown eyes were swallowed by the sadness of older ones. Alfred's face was lacking. Bruce couldn't place the pain. Was it shame? Fear? Sadness? Bruce found that he could no longer look at either of them. Time stretched on to nearly 3 and half hours. The fever of longing coursed through his being.

With a wounded look, and a fallen gaze, his voice cracked.

"Release me."

Crane smiled through his window.

"Very well."

"Wait!" Her voice broke through the barriers of all thought.

"You said he wouldn't be hurt as long as he followed the rules, correct?"

Crane remained silent for a moment.

"That is correct."

Rachael sighed and Alfred grabbed her wrist and shook his head at what he feared she was about to do.

"Miss Dawes…"

Rachael turned to Alfred with a soft smile.

"He would do anything to save me. Not it's my turn."

Bruce's body arched toward her nearing figure shaking to keep himself under control.

"Rachael, "his voice was raspy like the Bat's. Maybe he is the Bat now…she thought.

"Get away from me."

"Rachael allowed a single tear to fall down her cheek.

"No." She whispered.

Bruce jerked away from her touch. "I said get the fuck away from me!"

The young women in chains cried out in terror. Bruce's heart stopped.

_She cries in terror, terror that I caused…_

Rachael reached over and began to stroke Bruce. The minute her warm hands embraced him he felt the fire in his body surge a bit more, the lust becoming overwhelming. His eyes flashed it, his body welcomed it.

"How about we make this more interesting?" The chains were released.

The sound of releasing metal made Rachael freeze. Bruce was free. She had not taken that into account. She simply went to touch him and nothing more. He fell back against the wall, desperately trying to stand. His eyes met hers a fire burning that he had never experienced, a pain that could end swiftly and in pleasure. _Pleasure, just a bit of happiness?_ No, he shook his head_, not happiness disgust and fear. I am the breeder of fear. _

Rachael didn't move as she waited breathlessly for Bruce to gather his surroundings. A part of her wanted to run until her eyes met his. _Trust me they pleaded. I want to trust_ _myself…_ Rachael kept her gaze steady. _I want to Bruce but you are not yourself right now._

Bruce barely kept his stance against the wall, body shaking under the strain. His arms aching to reach out to touch her grab her, do anything to her….

Rachael waited continuing small strokes to his member. Waiting. His arms did nothing. Palms flat against the wall. Bruce refused to look at her. _Don't meet her eyes. Need to_ _focus._ His eyes looked up and met his beautiful captor. _My focus will be on her, the one_ _I don't know_. His eyes ravished her body as Rachael stroked his. Hands shaking playing moments in his head that never occurred but with a longing heart he wished them to be so. Nearly four hours when his peak was reached.

Bruce's hardened eyes remained on the woman struggling to be freed before him. Her breaths mimicked his, one of pleasure one of pain. He felt his release emptying upon Rachael's hand and his palms unclenched. Cold empty eyes softened as they gazed at the captured girl. Bruce leaned into Rachael completely spent. His sorrowful eyes could barely look to the young woman he had violated in his mind. Realizing his shame and fear he pushed Rachael away and fell on his knees.

Rachael's eyes stung with unshed tears as she walked back to Alfred.

"I was only trying to help him." Alfred patted her shoulder.

"You did."

Rachael looked to Bruce who refused to look at nothing but the ground under him.

"What was Crane trying to do?"

Alfred sighed as he stared at his ward.

"He was trying to shatter a man's soul." In a soft whisper, he added. "I fear Crane may have won."

I am sooooooooooooo sorry I took so long updating this. I got the most wonderful reviews asking me to start this up again. I know it keeps getting darker. I hope that those who read this still enjoy it. Please let me know if I should continue it. Thank you for all of the support!!!


	10. Lost and Found

Chapter 10 Lost and Found

**Disclaimer: I do not own. Some taken from Batman Begins and Batman Year One by Frank Miller Enjoy!**

* * *

Gordon rubbed his chin lost in thought. The winds had changed but not necessarily for the better. The boy had been some help pointing toward a possible direction for Gordon to search for the Bat. Saitation_….most probably sanitation…toxic crew cleanup….maybe if I take another look near the sewers something will click_…

"Gordon, " Gordon jerked his head up to see the eyes of Sarah. She had a warm cup of coffee in her hands . Gordon couldn't help but feel himself being drawn to her as he watched her brus ha strand of hair behind her ear. He shut his eyes to focus on the task at hand.

"We have to go back and check out that sewer…all of them actually. "

Sarah shook her head. "There too many."

Gordon nodded his head. "We need to narrow them down, but first." His eyes fell upon the market wagon he would often visit, "breakfast."

Sarah shrugged. It was nearing 8 am and at the mention of food, her stomach rumbled slightly.

Gordon walked over giving a friendly wave to the woman managing the cart.

"How are you today, Cecelia?"

The woman gave a gentle nod of her head and offered the Captain a smile. "As well as I can be. My arthritis is hurting you know?"

Gordon gave an emphethetic look her way. " I can only imagine." He eyed the food eagerly. "Do you have any croissants left?" He turned to Sarah." Croissants Ok with you?"

Sarah smiled. "They are my favorite."

Gordon returned the gesture. "Good. Two please."

Cecelia passed the warm sandwiches into Gordon's outstretched hand. He paid her and thanked her and immediately began to indulge.

"God, I haven't had one of these in a few days. Withdrawal you know?"

Sarah grinned and just ate.

Gordon didn't stray far from the cart so he couldn't help overhearing Cecelia talking.

"I don't know, Frances. I hope he is OK. He hasn't been here all week. Mr. Pennyworth is one of my best customers"

Gordon heard the name Pennyworth and spun on his heel.

"Alfred Pennyworth? You say he hasn't been here all week?"

Cecelia nodded.

"I am afraid so. Do you know if he is on vacation?"

Gordon thought back to the last time he had ever seen Alfred take a vacation.

"Yeah, he must be. Thanks Cecelia."

Gordon suddenly lost his appetite. Sarah watched the burning in his eyes.

"Why are you going this way, Captain? Shouldn't we be going to the narrows again?"

Gordon stared ahead. "We will, but we need to make a stop first."

* * *

Rachael couldn't take her eyes off of her hands. It had been nearly 8 hours since the incident and Bruce had yet to move from his position on the floor.

Maybe she shouldn't have touched him. Maybe she didn't trust him enough. _Bruce I didn't think you trusted yourself enough…_

Alfred kept his steady gaze on the young man. Bruce sat with his knees pulled up to his chest, his head buried in his lap It brought back painful memories to Alfred, ones of a little boy from long ago who sat in silence for hours at a time staring off in regret and guilt for something he had no control over. Alfred sighed. He couldn't' take watching his ward…_his son_… fall apart. It was time for intervention.

Bruce heard the shuffling of feet and heavy laden chains coming his way. It didn't matter. Crane's men knew they had nearly broken him and didn't even bother chaining him up again. There was no need to hang a man already shattered into pieces. He felt a gentle hand lay heavily on his shoulder leaving its imprint, making its presence known.

"You are not to blame."

Bruce kept his eyes on the floor below him controlling the sobs which threatened to wrack his body. "You don't know what I would have done…"

Alfred squeezed his shoulder.

"YOU don't know what you would have done."

Bruce pondered the possibility for a moment. His brown eyes glistened. His lip quivered slightly. "I wanted her. I didn't care anymore." He lowered his head and whispered, "I didn't care."

"You're wrong, Bruce." Bruce's features softened when he heard his name said by his long time friend…his second father in every right. Alfred cupped his hand to Bruce's battered chin and turned his eyes to face his.

"While I may not approve of the life you have chosen for yourself, the one thing I know for certain is that you always care…too much I might add, no matter what the cost to yourself."

Bruce felt moist tears flood his eyes as tears streamed down his face freely in front of Alfred.

He wanted to believe that, but his thoughts, his near actions told him otherwise.

Alfred followed Bruce's gaze to the muddled reflection at his feet. Bruce placed one foot in the stagnant water causing ripples to flow through it. Alfred looked and tried to see what Bruce was seeing but couldn't. It seemed to Alfred that only Bruce could see the evil within himself.

"This reflection, you see, sir, it is only a part of you. It is distorted and fragmented. Not the whole picture, you see. You aren't seeing the whole picture." With a lump in his thought and a gentle pat on the knee he whispered to Bruce. "Please look at the whole picture and see who you really are, not what you could be."

Alfred stood up and began to walk away leaving Bruce to ponder that statement..

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Gordon pushed his glasses a bit farther up his nose as he knocked on the door to Wayne Manor. After several minutes and many confused looks from Essex, Gordon decided to open it himself.

Sarah leaned in close enough for Jim to feel her breath on his neck.

"Why are we here again, Jim?"

Jim bit his lip hating the fact that he savored her calling him Jim.

"It's not like Alfred not to show up. He's an old friend and I want to make sure, he's OK." Sarah shrugged accepting this answer as Jim heard a click of the door. The two detectives followed in one behind the other guns drawn just in case.

"Hello?" Jim heard his voice echo. God this place was huge, he thought. _Too much for one old man to take care of. _

He heard their footsteps follow them as they continued down the hall. It was so strange. There seemed to be no sound whatsoever from anywhere. Everything was in order as always, but yet something wasn't right.

"I don't see any sign of him, Jim." Gordon nodded. Something was definitely up. As they were about to leave the house , Gordon saw a photo that had fallen on the floor. It was a picture of Bruce's parents. Jim took out a latex glove and picked it up. Although it could be a small clue or perhaps not one at all he found it unusual that the photo was on the ground when everything else was pristine. He decided to take it with him.

Later that evening at headquarters, the two began to grow bleary eyed searching the databanks for a possible match to the fingerprint on the Batman 's glove. Jim sighed. He knew they were going about this the wrong way. Batman was no criminal was he? Still this was their only shot to finding out who he was and maybe some way to help him. Any clue is better than no clue, Jim thought. Finally after three unsuccessful hours, the detectives were on edge.

"It's hopeless Jim. He's not here. There are too many sewers to comb through ourselves. The force could care less about the Bat" She paused seeing the despair on Jim's face. "We're done."

Jim pushed her comforting hand off of his shoulder. "He never gave up on us. I'm not giving up on him."

Sarah sighed and took a step back. "Fine, let me go make us some coffee then."

Jim remained silent as she walked out of the door. He took a deep breath in and looked at what he had. Not much. One bloody glove with fingerprint residue dried in the remains….Jim felt his heart begin to pound at the possibility. . He held the glove in one hand and causiously removed the photo from Wayne Manor with latex gloves in the other. He set out to test the one set of prints left. He ran a scan of the ones from the frame to see if they matched the gloves. The scan seemed to take forever. Jim knew there were many sets of prints on the frame, but maybe….that's when he heard a beep. He moved his hand away from his mouth.

"Holy shit."

"Holy shit, what?"

Jim nearly fell out of his chair when he realized Sarah was back in the room.

"Jim, what is it?"

She began to grow fearful of his deathly pallour and shocked face.

She pushed him aside and stared at what he was.

"Holy Shit."

Jim could only nod at his revelation when it all became clear to him.

He knew where to find the Batman…,Bruce Wayne….**

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Sorry I seem to be dragging out updates on this story! You guys are wonderful and thank you for all of your remarks and reviews and sticking with me all the while! Please continue! Only a few more chapters left.**


	11. Finding the Hero

**Chapter 11**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or the characters involved except the evil burly men. Thank you to all who have not given up on me through this story that I have neglected and left many of you on hold for two years. I hope you enjoy this chapter. There is only an epilogue left and I shouldn't take two years to have it up!!**

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Gordon felt his heart pounding to the point of shattering through his chest. His grip on the steering wheel was tight. Sarah kept her eyes on Gordon as she watched his reactions. She had to admit that she was in as much shock as he was…Bruce Wayne? Batman? Never in a million years….still had it all seemed to make sense in its own right. A small part of her ached to shout this information to the world around her, but she knew that it could never be. It wasn't right and with her eyes gazing on Gordon, she knew _**he**_ would never approve it.

"Where are we going?"

In their haste from the precinct, Gordon had grabbed her hand and dashed to the car.

"Since Bru…Batman is…well…one of him is anyway…very wealthy it makes sense that we check the sewers under Gotham's National Bank."

Sarah's eyebrow quirked. "Why again?"

Gordon sighed in frustration.

"Because that's how Crane thinks." Sarah didn't seem too sure until she heard him say, "Trust me."

* * *

Bruce had finally shifted his position after days of remaining motionless. His feet now lay planted firmly in front of him and any sign of self pity was erased.

Rachel and Alfred watched the change in Bruce with curiosity. His eyes were vacant. His chains lay idle by his side, forgotten by his captors. His handsome features were now lost in…nothing. Alfred sighed. He had seen Bruce like this many times before and prayed that this too would pass.

"He moved…that's a good sigh right?"

Alfred reached out a withered hand in hers wishing he had her innocence.

"One can only hope."

Their peace was soon shattered when the door creaked open. Two burly looking men, the same ones as before came in. Bruce's eyes refused to meet theirs.

"Get up."

Bruce remained still, ignoring the words.

"I said get up, you asshole."

Bruce tilted his head to briefly gaze in their eyes. He did his best to stand up but recent pain made it torturous. The men didn't care as they shoved him roughly by his arms causing Bruce to wince as his back slammed into the wall behind him.

"What's the matter?" the bigger of the two men stated while shackling Bruce to his chains. "Can't take it, fucker? " Bruce closed his eyes.

"Look at me."

Bruce opened his brown eyes staring directly into animosity.

The man leaned into Bruce's face breathing him in. "I should take you here, myself, pretty boy, especially since you like to put on shows for your friends here…"

His words were broken as the light in the box returned.

"You will do not such thing. Hasn't Mr. Wayne been through enough?" Crane's words made the larger man slink back wondering how Crane knew what he was up to, to begin with.

"Look at me, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce's wounded eyes met Crane's shadowed face.

"Are you ready for your final test?" Bruce lowered his head; strands of brown hair feel into his eyes over his whiskered cheeks.

"While you were sleeping…" Crane dragged the words out mockingly, "I strategically placed fourteen bombs around Gotham City."

Bruce lifted his head.

"You are now left with a choice. IF you allow me to execute what remains of your pathetic little family, then I will disarm the bombs. If you choose to spare the only two people who give a damn about you…then Gotham dies."

Bruce's heart echoed in its cage threatening to burst.

"Come on now, Mr. Wayne, I haven't got all day."

Bruce's eyes softened at the situation in which Crane created allowing his hands to clench in helplessness. Alfred watched his charge biting his lower lip.

"Trust yourself, Bruce," he murmured. Bruce's gaze penetrated his surrogate's. He saw the older man's lips twitch in an uneasy smile.

"Besides, "Crane's voice interrupted. "It's not like you haven't seen a father slaughtered before."

At these words, Rachel leapt to her feet. "You son of a bitch!"

The burly men pushed her to the ground. "Keep your woman in line, Batman!" they mocked.

Crane watched from the tower at Bruce's predicament. His captive's eyes were dormant and his lips moved without a sound. He saw sad, wistful eyes greet his before turning to his family.

Rachel reached out and clasped her hand in Alfred's fearing that this would be her demise.

Seeing the pain in Bruce as he looked at him, Rachel felt the tears welling in her eyes. "Crane is going to crush him," she whispered.

Alfred saw something else much more powerful tahn pain.

"No, Crane is going to _**create**_ him."

Bruce's eyes turned steely in defiance and acceptance.

"I choose neither."

Crane scoffed. "You have to make a choice…"

"I choose myself."

Crane grew silent and pondered the answer waiting for further explanation.

"If I choose my family to die in order to save Gotham, I would never forgive myself." He paused meeting Alfred's eyes which were glistened with tears.

"If I choose Gotham to burn, I would never forgive them."

Bruce returned his gaze to Crane's dimly lit box.

"Therefore, I am making the hero's call: I choose myself."

Crane smiled and began to clap slowly in response. Bruce felt his arms grow weak as the chains shattered and he fell to the ground. Steel tipped boots made their way to his broken ribs as he gasped for breath.

"Enough!"

The brutes stopped like dogs on command and backed away. Bruce struggled to pull himself up resting on his bloody hands.

"He has made the honorable choice. The path of a hero is not set in stone, but altered to fit the situation. It seems as in this situation, we have discovered that our true Batman is the same as before: a self sacrificing bastard."

Bruce felt the stirrings of strength in Crane's words. He was about to try his best to fight when the door burst open with such force that it nearly took his breath away. He blinked away the dust and grime to see glimpses of his saviors in SWAT gear followed closely by Gordon and Essex.

* * *

The brutes were on their knees whimpering in defeat much to the pleasure of Alfred. His warm eyes meet Gordon's from across the room. A nod was exchanged between the two, a nod of understanding and gratitude

Gordon clambered over the rubble to Alfred and Rachel unlocking their chains.

"Are you two OK?"

Gordon knew the question was useless but he was at a loss of what else to say. Rachel nodded, shaking while tears spilled down her cheeks.

"What will happen to Crane, sir?"

Gordon reflected on Alfred's question, but just for a moment.

"He will get what he deserves."

Alfred accepted this at face value, a bit of smugness seeping in his soul.

"Good."

Gordon squeezed his old friends' shoulder before rising and heading over to face Bruce. He sighed at the sight of him. He was torn, bloody, a mere waif of what he once was. . He rubbed his sweaty palms on his pants before reaching out a hand to Bruce. Gordon saw the terror in his eyes and wondered if it was there before or if the terror that was there now was bred solely from the possibility of dire consequences from the actions of the Batman.

"How did you find us?"

Gordon could barely hear the young man's words. He crouched down close to Bruce's face pushing his glasses a smidge and leaned in ignoring the chaos surrounding him.

"A mutual friend left me a clue." Bruce trembled slightly as he saw his glove, _Batman's _g_love_ peeking out of Gordon's bullet proof vest.

Bruce reached out a hand to touch it, feel it, and remember who he was. "What will happen to me now?"

Gordon tucked the glove away and patted his chest.

"Only you can decide your own fate, Mr. Wayne."

Gordon patted Bruce's knees affectionately before rising. A calloused hand grasped his.

"Thank you."

Gordon helped Bruce to his feet taking note of the strength behind Bruce's battered body as if he were seeing him for the first time.

"No, Mr. Wayne, thank you."

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Thank you all for sticking with me. Only the epilogue left. Please review. I hope this was worth the wait. I will try to get the epilogue up within the next week or two.

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